Freezing inside
by Simmens
Summary: He was normal and quiet. But that didn't show who he really was. He's a contract killer. He's 18 years old. It's labeled to be a CHERUB story, but they don't appear in here just yet. If you want the story to continue, please write so in the comments. Until now, it's a one-shot. Warning: Contains violence.


**Any ressemblance to real people is purely coincidental. This story should not motivate anyone to do the same thing. If you can't handle it, you should stop reading right now. And I don't plan on doing anything similar as to what happens in this story.**

No one could know. No one. He was a normal student from England. He studied computer science, was a calm, quiet guy. He didn't have any close friends, despite getting along with everyone. He was smart. He obeyed the laws perfectly. He'd hardly ever cross a red traffic light by foot or bicycle. Not even when the crossing was empty.

He had short, dark blonde hair, the color almost being on the verge of brown.

His eyes were blue and despite him being a guy, he had long eyelashes. He was sporty, loved jogging and went to the fitness studio quite often.

That all made him quite an average guy. Or at least, that's what everyone thought.

The truth is, that all of this was a facade. Well, most of it. He loved the silence and being alone. But that's about where the similarities stopped.

The middle-aged man who was sitting behind a desk in front of him was on the verge of learning this the hard way. He was tall and not sporty at all if the stretched business attire he was wearing was anything to go by.

And at the moment, he was looking expectantly at the student opposite of him. As he was the head of the university, it might be a questing he was expecting, or maybe a complaint.

Come to think of it, it might be more likely for me to complain about something than praise him or ask him something. Why? Simple, he had been redirecting money from the school funding into his own pockets. Under his leadership, the university had slowly began getting less organized and more and more disliked amongst the students.

And because it was a small university, nobody was paying attention. And if somebody did, they didn't care.

Of course, this wasn't enough reason for what he was about to do. But the two girls that had contacted him had told him that the director had been harassing them. Sexually. Even rape was mentioned. That's not reason enough for you. Well, it was for him.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Hayword? And at this late hour?" It was almost half past ten in the evening, shortly before closing hours and they were one of the last people in the building.

The student breathed in and out one more time and shut down all of my feelings.

"I have a complaint letter from two students who wish to remain anonymous. I think you know who I am speaking of? Perhaps, you would like to apologize to them and call the police." He put down his bag and opened it, pretending to search for something.

The man lost a little color but showed no other reaction outwardly. Well, there went his last chance of a long life, albeit it would have undoubtedly ended in prison.

"No, no idea. What's it about..."

He didn't come any further, because before he could finish his sentence, the boy had pulled out the Walter P99 with a silencer, pointed it at him and shot. Three times: One in his head and two in the chest. Hard and dry.

Then, he pulled out a sheet of paper which detailed his sins and put it down on the wooden desk. Expensive.

Next, he pulled of the rubber gloves he had secretly put on when pretending to search something in his bag, put them in a freezer bag which he carefully placed back into his bag.

They would need to disappear, along with the clothes. He would set them on fire later, along with his small flat to destroy any DNA trace. He had needed close to a year for this assignment and actually enrolled at this university to check if the two girls were right. Turns out they were and they weren't the only ones.

Putting the gun in his jacket, careful to place it so that its shape wouldn't be noticed on the outside, he went to exit the room. But not before he looked over the scene one last time. No, he hadn't touched anything. No traces. Perfect.

Well, turns out, a human life was worth fifty thousand euros. He preferred euros because they couldn't be tied to a country, but only to a continent.

With that, he exited the room, switched out the light and closed the door. Experience made him not forget to wipe the handle and the switch. And he walked away. It was going to be a long night.

The police was most likely going to find the body in the morning which left him probably eight to nine hours to get away as fast as possible.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
